A Price Worth Paying
by Hekate1308
Summary: As long as he got to win, he was ready for death. The Master's thoughts at the end of "The Last of The Time Lords".


**Author's note: First Doctor Who fanfiction. Because... Okay, I started watching it, and... do I even need to explain it? **

**I don't own anything, please review.**

Looking back, he should have known; after all, it had been the drums that had led him to her.

Then again, that wasn't surprising; it was always the drums. The drums that he had heard for the first time after gazing into the whole of Time, when he had been chosen, the drums that never stopped, the drums he could always hear in his head. Over the years, the sound of the drums had seeped into his blood, into his bones and he had accepted long ago that he would never be able to escape it.

Even after he'd turned himself human to safe himself in the Time War, he had always heard the drums. They had followed him his whole human life – of course, he hadn't known their significance then, hadn't understood their meaning, and had wasted years of his life helping others, travelling from refugee camp to refugee camp, and finally coming up with a plan to get everyone to Utopia. And then he had met his old friend once again.

His fob watch would have commanded Yana to open it without the Doctor showing up, he was sure, but he had got hold of the TARDIS and had regenerated into a much younger, stronger and rather good-looking form (if he said so himself).

True, the Doctor had rather spoiled his fun by limiting his travels to two locations; but in the end, he had found the perfect weapon right under the Doctor's nose. How well he remembered the fairy tales about the Toclafane, and he knew the Doctor would remember them too.

And knowing that his old friend wouldn't know what they were until he realized and his heart was broken in the process was simply delicious.

He had soon realized that he could travel eighteen months further than the Doctor had anticipated; well, so he would go to London and –

And that was when he'd come up with the plan to become the Prime Minister and eventually the Master of the Universe, to rebuild Gallifrey.

And to capture the Doctor, of course. It would only be half so much fun if he couldn't see his face when he unleashed the Toclafane upon the world.

But to achieve his goal, he needed a human life. That was fabricated easy enough – within a few hours, he had created Harold Saxon; Cambridge graduate, trustworthy, exactly what you'd always wanted a politician to be like.

The drums would make sure that no one suspected anything; all he had to do was to make people hear their sound. So the idea for the Archangel network was born. Not only would it constantly tell people to trust him and vote for him, but also hide his presence so the Doctor wouldn't notice. Not before he was prepared for it.

Naturally, he soon realized that his disguise would be even more effective if he had a companion. A wife. Plus, he had never been married, and it might be fun too, who knew?

Not just any woman, of course. No, a woman of a good family, not too bright, but pretty and harmless.

So he started looking; he had a few dates, but, while the women certainly seemed interested, he was bored after the first dinner, and that just wouldn't do. He had spent years as a human scientist, it was time for him to have some fun.

The drums, strangely, seemed to agree with him, their rhythm becoming unbearable near the end of the dates.

And then he'd met Lucy. From the start, there had been something... different about her. Yes, she certainly wasn't bright, but there was a certain dreamy look in her eyes that told him she would accept anything, once she'd made her choice.

The drums were beating as they always did, but for once, only in the back of his head, and he realized that they agreed with his choice.

Because this strange, dreamy, lost little human being almost fascinated him, he had already started to prepare her for what was to come during their first date. He couldn't help it. Especially not after she had said "And mother treated my sister's marriage like it was the end of the world".

He stared at her and only realized how intense his gaze must have been when she shifted in her chair and looked at the floor. Humans. So little time, and yet they couldn't bear to feel intensely. He would never understand why the Doctor loved them so much.

So he smiled and asked, "Would you like to see the end of the world – of the whole universe, in fact?"

She had stared at him, but then smiled uncertainly. Oh, yes, she would be the perfect companion. Nothing better for a politician's wife than to smile even when there was nothing to smile about.

But because he didn't want to scare her off, not when he'd finally found the right person, he started talking about something different – she seemed to be a bit of a bookworm, and he had been around long enough to read most of the pathetic tries at literature this planet had produced. And, when he kissed her good night (he had decided that it would have to be a non-platonic marriage – another reason why he needed his wife to be pretty) he was sure the date had been a success.

Over time, he made more and more comments like the one on their first date. She always reacted slightly confused, but never afraid, only confirming his suspicions that he had found the perfect match.

Once they were together, he decided it was time to show her the end of the universe, and she reacted even better than he'd predicted. She came to the conclusion that nothing mattered anyway, and when he offered her marriage right after their trip, she accepted immediately, apparently delighted.

She was even happy about his plans to rule the world, so he couldn't complain either. She would have been the perfect politician's wife even if he hadn't been able to control the thoughts of the nation.

Naturally, he made sure to know all about the Doctor's current companion (really, it was obvious that his old friend was the only one who didn't realize how she looked at him) and her family, and turning her own mother against her and the Doctor. And he helped her sister get the job when Professor Lazarus showed his new technology – he had known the experiment would go wrong, it simply couldn't work, there were too many variables; but, if he changed it a bit and integrated it in his new laser (really, who used sonic anymore?) screwdriver, it became a weapon against his one friend and enemy.

He became Prime Minister on the day the Doctor returned – what a wonderful coincidence, all in all. He couldn't have planned it better. And talking to his old friend while making him and his companions the most wanted persons in Great Britain... it was simply delightful.

Even though he was a little disappointed that the Doctor's best plan was a deception filter. Really, he would have expected him to come up with something more creative, to show a little more imagination. Thinking that a deception filter could trick him was almost insulting. At least he got to kill the President of the United States and age the Doctor. And, all in all, he couldn't be too annoyed, because the Doctor had had a better plan – and given him the perfect method of revenge at the same time.

And then came the best year of his life. Torturing the Doctor with the Toclafane, playing his favourite music for him, getting to enslave Martha Jones' family (not to mention the whole of humanity), killing Jack Harkness on a regular basis (how practical to have an enemy you could kill as often as you wanted) – it was glorious.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have treated Lucy the way he did, but then again, if he hadn't, he would have ended up the Doctor's prisoner. Forever travelling around in the TARDIS, having to stand his attempt to better him, make him a good guy. No, thank you very much. He preferred Lucy shooting him, he preferred dying to a life where he could never be himself again.

It wasn't that he wanted to die, he mused, lying in his old friend's arms, hearing his begging to regenerate but not really caring, But he was ready for it. After all, he had ruled the earth for a year, even though only a few people remembered it, and his death would hurt the Doctor.

He would win. For once, he would win, and he could at least enjoy the feeling of triumph for a few precious moments.

And it wasn't like Lucy would just get away with it. The Doctor would make sure she didn't. He was too good, too boring, too unlike him for that.

And at least he would go were only a few Time Lords had gone before and where the Doctor, for once, wouldn't be able to follow him – and it would tear him apart. Death was something new, something exciting.

And, considering all he had achieved and would achieve now, simply by refusing to obey the Doctor...

Death was a price he was willing to pay.

**Author's note: I love the Master. I do. He's just so... happy. And cheerful. No matter what he does or what happens. Anyway, I still hope I did this series justice.**

**Also, don't worry, dear regular followers, more Sherlock fanfiction is on its way. **

**Please review.**


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